


Neglect

by DetectiveRiley (RavenWhitecastle)



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [35]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Pampering, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/DetectiveRiley
Summary: It had been one year since everyone had joined what Root was calling “Team Machine,” and a few years since John and Harold had stopped being business partners and started being so much more. But with more members and more threats, everyone had been stretched a little thin. John would bring Harold tea, get Root was she needed, and do as he was asked, never hesitating or asking why. But deep down, his heart ached whenever he sat across from Harold and felt like he was still miles away
Relationships: Harold Finch/John Reese
Series: The Sinner and the Saint [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/940422
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Neglect

**Author's Note:**

> I've tortured John enough, I wanted to give him a break and pamper him for a bit.

It had been one year since everyone had joined what Root was calling “Team Machine,” and a few years since John and Harold had stopped being business partners and started being so much more. But with more members and more threats, everyone had been stretched a little thin. Harold had been spending more time with Root, working on a way to disassemble Samaritan, while offering assistance from headquarters. Shaw and John had been spending more and more time in the field working numbers while continuing to maintain their covers. It was exhausting, but John didn’t mind the long hours and high stakes. What bothered him was how much time he and Harold were spending apart. 

He tried his best to cope, and did as much as he could for Harold. His beloved Harold, who John would catch muttering to himself from time to time, and looking for papers he had in his hand or losing his glasses on top of his head. John would bring him tea, get Root was she needed, and do as he was asked, never hesitating or asking why. But deep down, his heart ached whenever he sat across from Harold and felt like he was still miles away.

One day, they had only a couple of numbers, and Root was nowhere to be seen. A spark of hope ignited inside John, and he took his opening. “So, who are we saving today?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

Harold was bustling around his workstation at breakneck speed as usual. “Shaw is taking care of Mr. Daniel Booth, a programmer that’s garnered attention from some unsavory characters. Our other number is Sarah Rossino, a lawyer at Grayson and Jefferson. Where did I put my…” Harold trailed off, patting his pockets and scanning his desk for something.

Wordlessly, John plucked Harold’s phone from under a stack of files and handed it over. “Ah,” Harold sighed, taking the device, “Thank you. Miss Rossino is in a board meeting until two o'clock, so she will probably be safe until then.”

John stepped closer. “Do you want to go undercover? We could pose as a high profile client and his bodyguard.”

Harold didn’t even look up from his computer, which he had immediately returned his attention to. “I’m sure you’re quite capable of handling it on your own.”

John’s heart sank. “Thought you might want to get out of the shadows for a little while.”

“As lovely as that sounds, Professor Whistler has an alarming amount of essays to grade.”

“Want some help? I’ve got-” John glanced at his watch. “- two and a half hours to kill.” He smiled jokingly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Harold didn’t notice. “Unless you have a wealth of knowledge about high-frequency decision making, I’m afraid there’s not much you can do. Perhaps Miss Shaw is in need of assistance.”

John swallowed his disappointment and nodded. “Sure. Let me know if there’s anything else.”

Silently, he walked out of the subway, shoving his fists in his pockets so no one would see his white knuckles, and resigned himself to another day on his own.

~

At the end of the day, Shaw and Reese had both successfully saved their numbers. Booth’s would-be kidnappers were locked up in holding at the precinct, and Reese had stopped Rossino’s ex from burning down the whole law firm. In the grand scheme of things, it had been an easy day, but John still felt burnt out.

When John got home, he paused on the threshold and took a deep breath. He prepared himself for the cold welcome of a dark and silent house, Harold absent from all the common areas, holed up in his office as usual. But when John opened the door, he was greeted by the soft glow of lamplight and the smell of something savory. He followed it to the kitchen, where he found Harold rushing around the way he normally did in the subway.

“Harold?” John called softly. Harold looked up, his glasses fogged up from the steam curling out of a pot on the stove. He smiled at the sound of John’s voice. “What is all this?” John asked.

Harold wiped off his glasses. “Dinner. What does it look like?”

“I usually do all of the cooking,” John observed.

“I know. I wanted to give you a break. Take your coat off and have a seat.”

Hesitantly, John did as he was told, watching Harold work. Now that they weren’t busy with numbers, coding, and cover stories, John realized just how wonderful Harold’s movements were. His limp was one of Harold’s quirks that John loved, but Harold somehow made it look graceful. He would swing over here, taste the food on the stove, move over there, grab this, swing back and add a pinch of that. John knew all the technicalities of what Harold was doing- John had done it many times himself- but the fact that it was Harold cast the act in a new light.

John didn’t know how much time had passed when Harold set a plate down in front of John and sat down across from him with a plate of his own. Harold had prepared one of John’s favorites- Manhattan style chowder. John inhaled the rich tomato smell and couldn’t suppress a grin. Harold smiled at him from across the table and gestured to John’s plate. “Dig in.”

John did gladly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the luxury of enjoying food. In the past months, food had simply been sustenance. How had Root put it? They weren’t living, they were surviving. So John savored every bite. 

He was halfway through his meal when he noticed Harold watching him, and something occurred to him. “So,” he said, setting aside his spoon, “What’s the occasion?”

Harold stirred his soup absentmindedly. “No occasion.”

John squinted. “What do you want?”

Chuckling, Harold shook his head. “Nothing. I thought you would know me better than that.” John simply studied his partner, and Harold sighed. “I know that things have been… difficult.”

John looked down at his half-empty bowl. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Call it what you will,” Harold replied, “but the point is, I’m sorry.”

John looked back up, and Harold looked sheepish. “We’ve all been under pressure,” John offered.

“But it’s no excuse. I got so caught up in everything that I lost track of what mattered.”

John felt himself flushing. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he joked, “You’d better not be going soft on me, Harold.”

Harold chuckled again. “I think we’re well past the both of us going soft. But what I mean is, just because we’re stuck in a war with a malevolent artificial superintelligence, doesn’t mean that I have any excuse to neglect you.”

Having finished his own small portion, Harold stood and said, “So tonight is all about you. While you finish your dinner, I’m going to go draw a bath. All right?”

Harold watched John for confirmation. John was so overwhelmed that all he could do was nod. Smiling, Harold limped over to the kitchen to put down his dish before heading down the hall.

John finished his chowder a few minutes later, and set his plate in the sink before following the sound of running water. The bathtub was almost full with hot water and suds, and Harold was laying down a mat next to the tub. He looked up when John knocked lightly on the open door.

“Don’t you think I’m a little old for a bubble bath?” John asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Harold stood and reached out to take John’s hand. “I was only thinking it might help you unwind. A good soak always does wonders for me.” John chuckled, until Harold looked away blushing. “And… if it’s all right with you,” Harold murmured, “I… thought I might offer to bathe you.”

John tilted his head and smiled. Harold really had thought of everything. He cupped Harold’s face with his hand, and Harold looked up at him. “That sounds amazing,” John replied. Harold’s face lit up.

Harold let John get undressed and get comfortable in the tub before kneeling at his side. He took his time bathing John, scrubbing his shoulders and back, and working the shampoo into John’s hair. John purred at the gentle massage of Harold’s fingers. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed being touched until then. The soft splashing of bathwater was punctuated by Harold humming and whistling, and John realized that Harold was just as happy to be spending time together as John was.

Once John was toweled off and dressed, they both curled up on the couch, and Harold turned on a movie. John didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t matter. He contented himself with being held, and listening to the gentle heartbeat in Harold’s chest. He was surrounded by the smell of Harold’s soap. John sighed happily and closed his eyes. He knew they would have to part ways when morning came, but for the time being, everything was perfect.


End file.
